Author's note: As always I don't own Thief or anything associated with it. That stuff all belongs to Looking Glass studios and the good people at Eidos. This is my first Thief fic but I have been playing the games for some time.
The cool night breeze whistled amongst the treetops, filling the air with the melodic sounds of the natural world. Beneath the eaves of this veredant forest was a single shadow, deeper than the rest in its shade and...thoughts. For this was no shadow at all. Without a sound the being stirred. Slowly it stood to its full height and moved off. It parted bush and branch effortlessly, and noiselessly. The trees soon broke and the shadow stepped out onto a narrow strip of open grass. Its figure was revealed in the pale moonlight. A man, cloaked and hooded in the deepest black. Before it towered a high stone wall, a tower stood at either end of the battlements and behind it, the loomed a four storey manor house. Its roof was flat except for the few outbuildings which had shingled rooves. The cloaked being moved up to the wall and, undaunted, began to climb. His feet and hands finding cracks and crevices no other would find. He reached the battlements quickly, and pulled himself over the edge. He slinked along the parapet to the door on the eastern side which lead into the tower. Reaching out with a black gloved hand he lightly turned the knob. The wooden door swung inward. Inside the room was unfurnished except for a large trapdoor in the centre of the floor. A single chair stood by the window, a snoring guard dress in a green tabard and mail occupied it. The three liqour bottles scattered around the room the cause for his slumber. The shadow entered and shut the door behind himself. He pulled the iron ring on the trapdoor which revealed a narrow winding stair, light by torches running down at regular intervals along the side wall. The man pulled the trapdoor closed behind himself, and moved down the steps and out the door at the bottom.
He was in a private garden behind the main house. Beds of flowers spread across bush covered grass with cobblestone paths winding their ways amongst the greenery. A marble fountain sprayed gently near the garden's centre. Low hedges and stone walls ran alongside some paths in short stretches. Trees dotted the lawns, willows mostly. A stone outbuilding jutted out from the manor where the garden met the house. Near the fountain stood a guard similar to the one in the tower...except awake. Two more patrolled both the eastern and western paths, all had swords hanging loosely in their sheaths. The thief stood unnoticed at the base of the tower. He crouched low and moved up to a low hanging willow next to a waist high stone wall. He pushed through the curtain of leaves and moved up to the wall, crouching below it. A guard moved down the path across the wall and towards the house. When he had passed, the thief vaulted the wall and leapt across the path to lie prone in a flower bed on the adjacent lawn. He let the seconds tick by before he moved again. He crawled to a hedge bordering the lawn and was now near the fountain. Peering over the hedge he saw the guard looking straight at the outbuilding, away from him. The other two guards never patrolled towards the manor and so never looked at the outbuilding or could hear any sound coming from it. But this one could and he needed to be removed. The thief reached into his cloak and slid his blackjack from his belt. Waiting until the guard on the eastern lawn turned away and the western one was out of site behind a tree, he sprang up. He moved around the hedge and ghosted across the courtyard stones, his boots never making a sound. He moved until he was directly behind the guard, so that he could hear his breathing and smell his sour breath. He brought the blackjack up and then down hard on the base of the guard's neck. The man dropped forward with a slight groan but the thief caught his unconcious form before it had hit the ground and dragged him behind the hedge just as the guard on the western lawn rounded the tree on a return patrol. The thief could hear his voice shout across to the guard on the other lawn. "Hey, where'd Benny go?" "I dunno, probably went to get his supper at the kitchens, didn't ya see him leave?" the second one replied. "Na, but you know Benny, always thinkin' of his stomach an' slackin' off, it's a wonder the sir don't fire him." "Well, if we all get blamed for slackin' off on watch tomorrow cause a' him, then I gonna be real mad." "I know what you mean, I just don't understand how he left so fast, I mean it was as though he disappeared." "Well nothing we can do except wait till he gets back, we leave our posts and were all gonna get it." "Huh, no good taffer, leavin us to do his watchin while he stuffs his face." "Yeah, ah well back to work." The voices stopped and the intruder heard the crunch of booted feet as the guards resumed their patrol. He waited until their footsteps had receeded a little before rounding the hedge and moving towards the outbuilding. He moved from shadow to shadow and bush to bush, stopping several times to wait as the guards came by on patrol. Eventually reached the outbuilding and was out of their sight and hearing.
He leapt atop a stack of crates beside the doors to the outbuilding. From here he jumped to the shingled roof of the outbuilding and walked up the tiles to the wall. Looking up, a wood framed balcony jutted out from the second floor. Reaching behind his back, the prowler pulled a wooden bow and an unusual arrow from somewhere amongst his cloak. The arrow had a bundled payload attached to the shaft which took the form of a cloth bag. The man nocked the arrow to his bow and fired it into a support beneath the balcony. The impact split the cloth bag as it was designed to, and a rope spilled out. The line uncoiled itself down to the man, who stored his bow and began climbing soundlessly up the rope. He reached to ledge in moments and was soon climbing the wall with his hands, just as before, to a third floor window-ledge. From there he made his way to the fourth floor, and then to the roof. Never once during this entire climb did he slip or flinch. The roof was wide and empty. The only exception being a small wooden shed and a glass skylight. He moved across the gravel covering, his boots not even crunching against the pebbles. Unlatching the skylight he looked down into the room below.
A carpeted parlour was below, its stone grate devoid of flame and its couches and chairs empty. The thief dropped in like a cat, on all fours. He landed without sound or disturbance. He stood and moved to the door. Pressing his ear against it he listened for movement outside...nothing. He slipped through the door and into the hallway. The hall was dark and stone floored. Various doors led off the hall but the thief had only one goal in mind. He moved down the hall to a set of double doors at the end. As he did so a side door opened and light spilled into the darkened hallway. The thief leapt out of the light and ducked in behind an alcolve containing a marble statue. A guard walked into the hall moments later and after pausing to look around for a moment, continued down the hall. He reached another side door and entered. The thief waited until he was sure complete silence reigned, then he went to the double doors. These were locked. Reaching for a pouch at his side he knelt in front of the door. Unrolling the bundle he selected a thin metal wire with a hook on the end. He inserted this into the keyhole and began rattling the wire from side to side. The lock began clicking, he reached down and selected another wire from his set. This joined the first in the keyhole, the lock clicked quicker now and the knob began to turn, suddenly it jerked open. The thief replaced his tools and was about to open the door when the side door opened and the guard returned. There was no time to get out of sight. He slipped back into the shadowy reccesses of an area of the hall where the wall joined the floor, and stretched himself out flat. The guard strode down the hall and through a side door, once again leaving only silence behind. The thief waited before returining to the doors and entering, shutting them behind him.
He was in a marble tiled hall. The high roof supported by six columns spaced around the room. Long carpets extended the length and breadth of the room. Austere paintings were spaced along the wood panelled wall. High vaulted windows dominated the left side of the room, moonlight streaming through. To the left was a low wooden platform which had it's own indentation in the wall. On either side of the indentation, a short flight of steps ran up to a wooden door. The centre of the room held a stone pedestal on which sat a golden skull. Its eyes were rubies, burning with an inner light. The jaw hung slackly open in a mocking scream. The thief lay himself flat on the floor and used his hands and feet to propel himself across the flooring. He reached the base of the pedestal and looked across the room to the wooden platform. On it was a marble table which held a fist-sized indentation in it's centre. Six small silver stubs ran in a circle around the notch, each one projecting a fine blue thread across the ident to another stub on the other side. Something inside the ident glowed with a blue light. The thief looked up at the skull, it's eyes staring directly at the platform. Slowly he stood up behind it. Reaching above the crown of the skull he gradually placed his hands on the skull. He could feel it shudder beneath him...yet his hands had not shaken. He every so slowly crept his fingers down the fore of the skull and stopped a hairsbreadth above the eyes. Then, he worked each digit in behind the gems. When he had gotten a firm hold on the sockets, he gently pressed forward on the rubies. They stuck for a moment before suddenly popping out with a snap. Quick as a flash the thief whipped his palms forward and caught the rubies before they hit the floor. He stood quite still for a moment, breathing... nothing stirred. He pocketed the rubies and stood back from the skull. Then he went and mounted the wooden platform. He looked into the niche in the table. The item inside was curious to say the least. It was about the length of a pen and relatively thick. It's entire length was jet black and covered in ornate gold script. Running around the centre of the object was a band of pure silver. At one end the piece widened into a small bowl-shaped headpiece into which was set a glowing blue stone. The stone was smooth and unmarked or blemished, and it emitted a pulsing blue glow from somewhere within it's core. "The Vestrius." The thief whispered. He examined the threads covering the ident. Each of them crisscrossed at different heights across the bowl, and because of this, left scare room for a hand to fit between them. The thief had no doubt in his mind that moving one of the strings, even slightly would cause either an alarm to sound or a trap to be triggered, or even both. He examined the underside of the table. There was no hint of any mechansim of any kind on the smooth surface. Looking back at the niche he examined the space between the strings. Reaching into his cloak he pulled out the lockpicks and picked his two thinnest wires. Then, he slowly lowered them through a gap in the strings and into the niche. With prefect care he slide one of the wires under the Vestrius. The hook end caught it and held. He placed the other wire on top of the Vestrius catching it between to two hooks. Then he slowly worked the Vestrius up the side of the bowl and towards the strings. As he raised it through the hole he leaned his elbow on the table to steady his hands. After a lengthy bit of twisting and shifting he managed to free the artifact and bring it out of the hole. Yet as he was poised over the niche with the Vestrius still clamped between the wires, his elbow slipped and the hooks detached. The Vestrius twirled through the air towards the strings below. The intruder whipped out his hand and caught the Vestrius mere inches from the strings. Slowly he pulled his hand back. He placed the Vestrius in a cloth wrap and dropped the bundle into a leather cylinder at his side. Then, gathering up his tools he made for the windows. He unbolted the lower portion of the large casement and mounted the ledge. He turned to take one last look at the room, and as he did so the moonlight played across his face. His mechanical eye whirred in its socket as the light hit it. Garrett the Master Thief had struck again. And with that he was gone.
The cool night breeze whistled amongst the treetops, filling the air with the melodic sounds of the natural world. Beneath the eaves of this veredant forest was a single shadow, deeper than the rest in its shade and...thoughts. For this was no shadow at all. Without a sound the being stirred. Slowly it stood to its full height and moved off. It parted bush and branch effortlessly, and noiselessly. The trees soon broke and the shadow stepped out onto a narrow strip of open grass. Its figure was revealed in the pale moonlight. A man, cloaked and hooded in the deepest black. Before it towered a high stone wall, a tower stood at either end of the battlements and behind it, the loomed a four storey manor house. Its roof was flat except for the few outbuildings which had shingled rooves. The cloaked being moved up to the wall and, undaunted, began to climb. His feet and hands finding cracks and crevices no other would find. He reached the battlements quickly, and pulled himself over the edge. He slinked along the parapet to the door on the eastern side which lead into the tower. Reaching out with a black gloved hand he lightly turned the knob. The wooden door swung inward. Inside the room was unfurnished except for a large trapdoor in the centre of the floor. A single chair stood by the window, a snoring guard dress in a green tabard and mail occupied it. The three liqour bottles scattered around the room the cause for his slumber. The shadow entered and shut the door behind himself. He pulled the iron ring on the trapdoor which revealed a narrow winding stair, light by torches running down at regular intervals along the side wall. The man pulled the trapdoor closed behind himself, and moved down the steps and out the door at the bottom.
He was in a private garden behind the main house. Beds of flowers spread across bush covered grass with cobblestone paths winding their ways amongst the greenery. A marble fountain sprayed gently near the garden's centre. Low hedges and stone walls ran alongside some paths in short stretches. Trees dotted the lawns, willows mostly. A stone outbuilding jutted out from the manor where the garden met the house. Near the fountain stood a guard similar to the one in the tower...except awake. Two more patrolled both the eastern and western paths, all had swords hanging loosely in their sheaths. The thief stood unnoticed at the base of the tower. He crouched low and moved up to a low hanging willow next to a waist high stone wall. He pushed through the curtain of leaves and moved up to the wall, crouching below it. A guard moved down the path across the wall and towards the house. When he had passed, the thief vaulted the wall and leapt across the path to lie prone in a flower bed on the adjacent lawn. He let the seconds tick by before he moved again. He crawled to a hedge bordering the lawn and was now near the fountain. Peering over the hedge he saw the guard looking straight at the outbuilding, away from him. The other two guards never patrolled towards the manor and so never looked at the outbuilding or could hear any sound coming from it. But this one could and he needed to be removed. The thief reached into his cloak and slid his blackjack from his belt. Waiting until the guard on the eastern lawn turned away and the western one was out of site behind a tree, he sprang up. He moved around the hedge and ghosted across the courtyard stones, his boots never making a sound. He moved until he was directly behind the guard, so that he could hear his breathing and smell his sour breath. He brought the blackjack up and then down hard on the base of the guard's neck. The man dropped forward with a slight groan but the thief caught his unconcious form before it had hit the ground and dragged him behind the hedge just as the guard on the western lawn rounded the tree on a return patrol. The thief could hear his voice shout across to the guard on the other lawn. "Hey, where'd Benny go?" "I dunno, probably went to get his supper at the kitchens, didn't ya see him leave?" the second one replied. "Na, but you know Benny, always thinkin' of his stomach an' slackin' off, it's a wonder the sir don't fire him." "Well, if we all get blamed for slackin' off on watch tomorrow cause a' him, then I gonna be real mad." "I know what you mean, I just don't understand how he left so fast, I mean it was as though he disappeared." "Well nothing we can do except wait till he gets back, we leave our posts and were all gonna get it." "Huh, no good taffer, leavin us to do his watchin while he stuffs his face." "Yeah, ah well back to work." The voices stopped and the intruder heard the crunch of booted feet as the guards resumed their patrol. He waited until their footsteps had receeded a little before rounding the hedge and moving towards the outbuilding. He moved from shadow to shadow and bush to bush, stopping several times to wait as the guards came by on patrol. Eventually reached the outbuilding and was out of their sight and hearing.
He leapt atop a stack of crates beside the doors to the outbuilding. From here he jumped to the shingled roof of the outbuilding and walked up the tiles to the wall. Looking up, a wood framed balcony jutted out from the second floor. Reaching behind his back, the prowler pulled a wooden bow and an unusual arrow from somewhere amongst his cloak. The arrow had a bundled payload attached to the shaft which took the form of a cloth bag. The man nocked the arrow to his bow and fired it into a support beneath the balcony. The impact split the cloth bag as it was designed to, and a rope spilled out. The line uncoiled itself down to the man, who stored his bow and began climbing soundlessly up the rope. He reached to ledge in moments and was soon climbing the wall with his hands, just as before, to a third floor window-ledge. From there he made his way to the fourth floor, and then to the roof. Never once during this entire climb did he slip or flinch. The roof was wide and empty. The only exception being a small wooden shed and a glass skylight. He moved across the gravel covering, his boots not even crunching against the pebbles. Unlatching the skylight he looked down into the room below.
A carpeted parlour was below, its stone grate devoid of flame and its couches and chairs empty. The thief dropped in like a cat, on all fours. He landed without sound or disturbance. He stood and moved to the door. Pressing his ear against it he listened for movement outside...nothing. He slipped through the door and into the hallway. The hall was dark and stone floored. Various doors led off the hall but the thief had only one goal in mind. He moved down the hall to a set of double doors at the end. As he did so a side door opened and light spilled into the darkened hallway. The thief leapt out of the light and ducked in behind an alcolve containing a marble statue. A guard walked into the hall moments later and after pausing to look around for a moment, continued down the hall. He reached another side door and entered. The thief waited until he was sure complete silence reigned, then he went to the double doors. These were locked. Reaching for a pouch at his side he knelt in front of the door. Unrolling the bundle he selected a thin metal wire with a hook on the end. He inserted this into the keyhole and began rattling the wire from side to side. The lock began clicking, he reached down and selected another wire from his set. This joined the first in the keyhole, the lock clicked quicker now and the knob began to turn, suddenly it jerked open. The thief replaced his tools and was about to open the door when the side door opened and the guard returned. There was no time to get out of sight. He slipped back into the shadowy reccesses of an area of the hall where the wall joined the floor, and stretched himself out flat. The guard strode down the hall and through a side door, once again leaving only silence behind. The thief waited before returining to the doors and entering, shutting them behind him.
He was in a marble tiled hall. The high roof supported by six columns spaced around the room. Long carpets extended the length and breadth of the room. Austere paintings were spaced along the wood panelled wall. High vaulted windows dominated the left side of the room, moonlight streaming through. To the left was a low wooden platform which had it's own indentation in the wall. On either side of the indentation, a short flight of steps ran up to a wooden door. The centre of the room held a stone pedestal on which sat a golden skull. Its eyes were rubies, burning with an inner light. The jaw hung slackly open in a mocking scream. The thief lay himself flat on the floor and used his hands and feet to propel himself across the flooring. He reached the base of the pedestal and looked across the room to the wooden platform. On it was a marble table which held a fist-sized indentation in it's centre. Six small silver stubs ran in a circle around the notch, each one projecting a fine blue thread across the ident to another stub on the other side. Something inside the ident glowed with a blue light. The thief looked up at the skull, it's eyes staring directly at the platform. Slowly he stood up behind it. Reaching above the crown of the skull he gradually placed his hands on the skull. He could feel it shudder beneath him...yet his hands had not shaken. He every so slowly crept his fingers down the fore of the skull and stopped a hairsbreadth above the eyes. Then, he worked each digit in behind the gems. When he had gotten a firm hold on the sockets, he gently pressed forward on the rubies. They stuck for a moment before suddenly popping out with a snap. Quick as a flash the thief whipped his palms forward and caught the rubies before they hit the floor. He stood quite still for a moment, breathing... nothing stirred. He pocketed the rubies and stood back from the skull. Then he went and mounted the wooden platform. He looked into the niche in the table. The item inside was curious to say the least. It was about the length of a pen and relatively thick. It's entire length was jet black and covered in ornate gold script. Running around the centre of the object was a band of pure silver. At one end the piece widened into a small bowl-shaped headpiece into which was set a glowing blue stone. The stone was smooth and unmarked or blemished, and it emitted a pulsing blue glow from somewhere within it's core. "The Vestrius." The thief whispered. He examined the threads covering the ident. Each of them crisscrossed at different heights across the bowl, and because of this, left scare room for a hand to fit between them. The thief had no doubt in his mind that moving one of the strings, even slightly would cause either an alarm to sound or a trap to be triggered, or even both. He examined the underside of the table. There was no hint of any mechansim of any kind on the smooth surface. Looking back at the niche he examined the space between the strings. Reaching into his cloak he pulled out the lockpicks and picked his two thinnest wires. Then, he slowly lowered them through a gap in the strings and into the niche. With prefect care he slide one of the wires under the Vestrius. The hook end caught it and held. He placed the other wire on top of the Vestrius catching it between to two hooks. Then he slowly worked the Vestrius up the side of the bowl and towards the strings. As he raised it through the hole he leaned his elbow on the table to steady his hands. After a lengthy bit of twisting and shifting he managed to free the artifact and bring it out of the hole. Yet as he was poised over the niche with the Vestrius still clamped between the wires, his elbow slipped and the hooks detached. The Vestrius twirled through the air towards the strings below. The intruder whipped out his hand and caught the Vestrius mere inches from the strings. Slowly he pulled his hand back. He placed the Vestrius in a cloth wrap and dropped the bundle into a leather cylinder at his side. Then, gathering up his tools he made for the windows. He unbolted the lower portion of the large casement and mounted the ledge. He turned to take one last look at the room, and as he did so the moonlight played across his face. His mechanical eye whirred in its socket as the light hit it. Garrett the Master Thief had struck again. And with that he was gone.